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Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Hot topic disclaimer: You may only read this post if you promise not to become offended on my behalf and write my husband letters. You see, we have worked this whole issue out—mostly—and our boxing gloves rest safely in a grungy corner of the basement. I’d hate to have to bring them upstairs because someone misunderstood my motive in baring my soul today.

I believe what I’m about to confess may help some of you writers, singers, artists, dancers, and other creative types. It might even save your vocal chords from an argument, or your checkbook from divorce fees.

Are you ready? My husband does not like my writing.

Lest you think he’s a heartless, insensitive lout, I want to jump to his defense. He likes me, he’s proud of me, and cheers loudly whenever I publish an article or get an editing job. But, you see, we are very different.

Aha.

He is the intellectual, deep-thinker of the family who loves to research, analyze, and plan. He enjoys delving into historical background, studying word origins, and—yawn—perusing National Geographic articles.

I, on the other paw, love to invent witticisms, ramble through emotion-land, and make statements that some mistake for lies when in fact they are exaggerations and embellishments. Making our bed each morning is a discipline for me. I’d rather read, blog, or slide across the kitchen floor on my way to find Cookies & Cream bars for my breakfast.

My articles and books, which reflect my nutty personality, are too fluffy and touchy-feely for his taste. Too subjective, he'd say. And of course, I took this personally.

I’d cry, shout, and accuse him of not caring or not supporting my writing career. He’d deny it. It was ruining any joy I had in writing and publishing. Not to mention our lovely, 36-year relationship.

As I was washing dishes one day, this thought slapped me in the brain:

I don’t particularly enjoy his style of writing either.There is nothing wrong with it; it just doesn’t suit my personality. So, why can’t we accept each other’s differing tastes, and love one another for the unique creatures—I use this word loosely—that God made us?

Large sigh of relief.
I won’t pretend we put our boxing gloves away and never used them again. But that one little thought—now I realize it was the Holy Spirit—helped me to take this whole issue less seriously.

And that has made a HUGE difference in how I perceive my DH’s response—or lack of it—to my gift.

Now that you’ve heard my confession, how do you feel? Do you have someone in your life that you love very much, who just doesn’t get you, and your gifts? Can you decide to be friends anyway? I hope so.

21 comments:

What a cute, honest post! :-) When I first got a job writing articles, my feelings were hurt that my husband wouldn't read them. He doesn't read anything, actually. It took a while but now I'm okay with that. I don't like to go fishing with him, he doesn't like to read; we're even. LOL I'm glad the boxing gloves got put away. :-)

Love your wit, Jen! Glad you realized that your writing styles are merely DIFFERENT - there's not one right way to write! Thank the Lord for that! May both of you keep doing what you're doing and leave those boxing gloves to rest in peace in the basement! God bless!

Sounds familiar! My husband thinks fiction is a pointless waste of time when you can read valuable REALITIES in God's Word or other such books. :) LOL again I ditto all your disclaimers though because my DH is also my biggest cheerleader. Darn. Now I had a mental picture of him in a cheerleader uniform and it's disturbing me.

Love your honesty, Jeanette! And oh yes, we have this dynamic in our home too. My husband is a businessman type with the bottom line in mind. So when I don't make a "profit" after so many years of writing, he questions my sanity. God knows we need balance, though, so I'm sure that's why He pairs us opposites together. :)

What a beautifully fresh honest post. Yes, we are so very different and our 'best half' (I use this term loosely) may not always appreciate our 'gifts'. Dang, isn't marriage a give and take contract??? Heeehehe!!!

I just had to laugh at your slide across the floor statement. I keep my utility floor super slick. I have a purpose for it. Each time Hubs leaves the house he says, "I'm leavin' now." I shout, "hang on" then run down the hall, hit the utility room floor in socks of course, slide into Hubs arms and kiss his face goodbye. It's just one of those wild and crazy thing we do. :o)

Opposites attract. I wish I knew why God made us this way. My husband and I are opposites, so although he will say he likes my poems, he has confessed to liking the kind of poetry that jumbles words, basically makes no sense to me at all. I rarely write poems that don't rhyme, and that's just not his thing, but He's the one that encouraged me to create a blog. So I press on...

You've hit that place that my husband calls 'agreeing to disagree' and it's a very legitimate middle ground. I love your delightful description of the conflict and am glad the boxing gloves are off again. :)

It just goes to show that people... including husbands, agents, and the general public... don't all appreciate the same kind of writing. Even when we're published there is a section of the public who will never choose to read our genre. We don't have to love what everyone writes as long as we're supportive of each other's writing efforts, and I'm sure you and your DH are happy with each other's successes.

Though he's never said it in so many words, I suspect my husband doesn't like my writing either. He reads non-fiction and I write fantasy. He'll read what I write and critique it, but he's never pretended that my work is something he'd pick up on his own to read in his spare time. But that's okay - to each his own!

Isn't it nice when we accept the things that aren't going to change? Less stress all around.

My husband is very supportive of my writing, but he just doesn't "get" the time it takes to do what I do. We joke about it sometimes, but I still feel a little pressure to produce ($$) for all the time I spend at my computer. I'm working on it.